An Overdue Celebration, Planned by Eönwë and Mairon
by NirCele
Summary: Eönwë and Mairon are a little jealous. Why can the Elves celebrate this new 'Yule' when the Maiar don't ever get parties? The two friends take matters into their own hands, deciding upon a party and present-exchanging. It gets a little...out of control. Second story in the FanFiction Christmas Countdown 2015.


**This story is part of the 12 Day Fan Fiction Christmas Countdown! Twelve of us fanfic writers joined together to do this, and a different person is posting a story in a different fandom for every day in the 12 days of Christmas. (Did that make any sense? Please make sense.) Mine is the one posted on the 2nd day, so make sure to check out the 1st story, which was posted by Pip the Dark Lord of All in the Star Trek fandom!**

 **Let me explain this story: it is not explainable. It's pure parody. Please don't be insulted or let your head explode because of it. There are almost too many characters to describe in case you haven't read** **The Silmarillion** **, but I'll try.**

 _ **Mairon : A Maia that works under the Vala Aulë. He later becomes the great enemy known as Annatar and/or Sauron, but for now he's still good.**_

 _ **Eönwë**_ _ **: The Chief of the Maiar, known better as the Herald of Manw**_ _ **ë. Eönwë having wings is just how I picture him.**_

 _ **Ilmarë : Second-in-command of the Maiar, Handmaiden to Varda. Not much is known about her, but I decided to make her snobby.**_

 _ **Everyone else: Ossë and Uinen (Maiar who work for the Vala of the Sea, Ulmo. They live in the sea); Melian (Maia ancestor of Lord Elrond); Arien (a flaming hot Maia who later basically...brought the Sun into the sky, it's hard to explain); Tilion (a Maia who later became Maia of the Moon for...reasons); and Curumo, Olórin, Aiwendil, and the two random dudes crawling under the tables (the Istari that were later sent to Middle Earth – Saruman, Gandalf, Radagast, and the two Blue Wizards, in order).**_

 **Wow, that actually all came from memory up there. If I actually got anything wrong, don't hesitate to let me know!**

 **Longest A/N ever. O.O**

* * *

"Let it go, let it go," bellowed Mairon, staggering down the halls of the Maiar dormitories, "can't hold it back any _more!_ Let it go, LET IT GOOOO! TURN AWAY AND SLAM THE DOOR!"

Many doors did indeed slam as angry Maiar came to see what was disrupting their quiet time, though they certainly weren't turning away.

"I DON'T CARE...WHAT THEY'RE GOING TO SAY!" bellowed Mairon, falling sideways into a wall and knocking off a sculpture of Lord Námo with his elegant nose painted red. "LET MY FORGE BURN ON..."

"Are you trying to die?" Eönwë sputtered, appearing next to him with a clap of his wings. Screaming Maiar ran at them both, all faces morphed in rage at their perfect quiet time being interrupted.

Mairon looked over the edge of his neon orange sunglasses and cackled. "...THE HEAT NEVER BOTHERED ME ANYWAY."

"This is not a fun song, and you're driving everyone nuts," Eönwë said, and grabbed Mairon. There was a clap of wings, and then they were standing in Lord Lórien's gardens, a safe distance from the horde of incoming Maiar.

Mairon pouted, yanking his arm away from Eönwë. "I was trying something new."

"What, throwing yourself in front of furious Maiar – friends or not – and seeing how long it would take for them to kill you?"

"Noooo _oooo_ , Fi, don't be absurd," said Mairon, pushing his neon sunglasses up on top of his head. "I was experimenting. You know the Firstborn have gotten a new celebration of sorts, I think they called it Yule, where they sing more songs than usual and they give each other gifts?"

"Yes," said Eönwë. "It's ridiculous, if you ask me. They have far too many celebrations as it is. They had one just a little while ago."

"Well, I've decided I want to do it too. We never have celebrations."

"Yes, we do," Eönwë said. "Like, we had one...um..."

"Never. We've never had a party before. And we totally shooooouullldd!" Mairon screamed to the sky.

Estë appeared and gently smashed Mairon on the head for disturbing the peaceful gardens she slept in, then she vanished.

"Anyways," said Mairon, rubbing his gently smashed head. "We should totally have one. We can get gifts and exchange them like the Elves do, and we can...sort of – throw a party. We shouldn't invite Curumo, though."

"Why not?" Eönwë asked, actually thinking about the idea now. Why couldn't they throw a party? That would be epic, and Eönwë was all for epic things.

"Because he pulled out a strand of my magnificent hair while I was working on something yesterday," Mairon said as to why he didn't want Curumo to come, flipping a lock of his magnificent hair to display. "And I may or may not have screamed, accidentally broken the diamond crown I was working on, smashed him in the face, and then gotten in trouble with Master Aulë."

"Uh-huh," said Eönwë, not listening anymore. "Hmm..."

"And now I have to clean the forges out every day for the next two hundred years." Mairon sighed. "Not as bad as last time, but still awful. So, what do you think of my party idea?"

"It's epic," Eönwë announced. "Let's do it!"

"Really? Oh, good. Okay. Where do you think we should do it?"

Eönwë considered that for a long moment. "You know, I don't really think that's the only question here. Who should we invite? What should we bring – to eat, to drink? Are we going to exchange these 'presents' the Firstborn seem to be raving about recently? Should we tell the Masters about it?"

"On that last question," said Mairon, "Absolutely not. No one but Lord Tulkas knows how to have a good time."

"That's not fair," Eönwë said. "Lady Nessa is a lot of fun. Remember what she did a little while back?"

"Yes, she collected bits of brightly-colored things she called confetti, and she ran about scattering them because no one could catch her." Mairon pursed his lips. "That actually sounds really weird...are Valier supposed to do that?"

"Okay, let's not invite anyone then," Eönwë said. "It'll be just us two."

"Good idea," Mairon said.

* * *

Eönwë and Mairon stood beside Lord Ulmo's throne on the edge of the Ring of Doom (aka Máhanaxar, but no one called it that anymore, it was _so_ outdated), watching as dozens of Maiar bustled about the huge circular 'arena' of sorts, arranging tables, chairs, rugs, ornaments, various plants, and tapestries that were flung all over the massive thrones encircling the entire place.

"Just us, huh?" Mairon said.

"Just us," Eönwë muttered.

There was a rustle of silky cloth and a Maia sidled up to the both of them, fluttering her dark eyelashes. "Well," she said. "I see there's a party going on here."

"It's not started yet," said Mairon. "And it won't until tomorrow."

"Go away, Ilmarë," Eönwë ordered.

The Handmaiden of Varda huffed and lifted her nose, not-so-secretly showing off her newest form – pale skin, dark curls that tumbled to her waist, and olive-green eyes that slanted at the corners. She was quite proud of this one. "How rude you are," she simpered. "I was _just_ going to ask you where you planned on seating everyone."

"There's not going to be any seating, you can just sit wherever you want." Eönwë thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement with himself. Mairon just shrugged.

Ilmarë gasped. "You simply mustn't do that! Some of us just don't get along here, and –"

"Like who?" Eönwë challenged.

"Like me and _Uinen_." Ilmarë shuddered. "Ugh, she's just horrible. So brawny and – and scaled. Have you _seen_ that new forms she's taken? She doesn't even have ears!"

"Uinen is coming?" Eönwë squeaked. "And...and Ossë too? He bit me the last time he was here."

"Duh, of course," Ilmarë said, rolling her eyes. "They're married."

"All the way from the sea?" Mairon finally said something, raising a dramatic red-gold eyebrow. "That's quite a long way."

"Well," Ilmarë giggled. "It _is_ a party, and we haven't had one of those in like, ever."

"I don't like her, Fi," Mairon whispered to Eönwë. "She's too giggly and happy. Can you make her go away?"

"Go away!" Eönwë snapped. "We know what you're trying to do; you want to take over the party. Forget it, it's ours!"

Ilmarë scowled and tossed her head, then flounced away.

Eönwë and Mairon went back to watching the other Maiar shoving tables into position. Two identical Maiar, identified from the Woods of Oromë from their blue shirts, crawled under the tables and affixed little round globes to them. They caused more than a little chaos whenever they scrambled to another table, tripping busy Maiar and laughing at the mess that happened.

"This is actually fun," Mairon said a little while later, clapping encouragingly when Ilmarë screamed as she fell over a chair someone had 'accidentally' shoved into her. "We came up with the idea, but we're not doing any of the work."

"And we're still going to get everything from it," Eönwë agreed.

"Say, do you have my present yet?" Mairon inquired.

Eönwë just grinned.

"I'm working on yours," Mairon offered.

"Nice to know."

"So what am I getting?"

Eönwë scoffed. "As if I'm telling you. ….What are you getting me?"

Mairon shoved his shoulder. "Suuuuuure, I'll tell you."

Eönwë suddenly gasped and stared.

"What?" Mairon said, glancing in the same direction. "Oh." He rolled his eyes. "Her again? Seriously?"

"But she's so beautiful." Eönwë swooned.

The Maia he was looking at drifted past them, her hair literally flaming. Her blood burned golden beneath her skin, and her eyes were burnt orange.

Mairon shook his head. "You have it bad, my friend. You should just ask her to...I dunno, walk in the gardens with you or something. Do those...courtship thingies."

Eönwë gurgled unintelligibly and staggered after her, his wings flopping behind him.

* * *

"I call for a toast!" Mairon bellowed over the clamor of the Ring, adjusting the pure diamond crown that was slipping sideways on his head. It took a while before everyone quieted, but eventually they did. Olórin and Curumo sat right beside him, the former's head buried in a book and ignoring the party going on around him, while the latter's leather boots were propped up on the table as he sipped from a spiky cup.

Ossë and Uinen sat just across from them, both of the Maiar covered in green scales, their gills fluttering every time they took a breath. They had eaten almost all of the leafy foods here, apparently absolutely sick of seafood by now. Salmar sat beside the two, glaring at the boiled clams in front of him.

There were other Maiar filling the room, though Mairon only recognized a few of them immediately. (So many of them had changed their forms, it was hard to keep track of them all). He noticed Melian, of course, her scandalizingly short blue dress hiked _all the way up to her knees_ , and two doves perched on her shoulders. Tilion, easily recognizable from his silver hair and strikingly pale skin, was lying across the armrest of Lord Námo's throne, snacking on bits of an apple.

And Eönwë, of course, sat behind the fire-skinned Arien, just staring at her as she slowly munched on a massive chunk of lava bread. His wings were sprawled all over the floor behind him, twisted around the high back of the chair he sat in.

There were other Maiar scattered all over the room, but Mairon didn't really recognize any of them, and he didn't care, to be frank. (Wait, was that Aiwendil? Why was he covered in rabbits and hiding under the table?)

Once he was sure he had gotten everyone's attention, Mairon grinned and raised his goblet of thick wine he may or may not have helped smuggle from Lord Lórien's winery hidden in his gardens. "A toast, my fellows!"

"To what?" Ossë grumped, looking like he wanted to bite someone.

"To our success in getting this party done! Who knew that, with all of us working together, it would get done!"

" _Most_ of us working together," Ilmarë interrupted sassily, and Mairon ignored her.

"And none of the Masters even found out about it!" He grinned at the roar of excitement from everyone. "Yeah! Do you know how hard it is to keep a secret from them, especially when we're using their Ring of Doom _and_ have the gossip central Ilmarë and Melian in on it?"

Everybody laughed except Ilmarë and Melian, who sniffed insultedly, and Eönwë, who was too busy staring lovingly at Arien.

"So!" Mairon lifted his goblet again. "A toast...to us!" He lifted it to his lips and tilted it back, pouring it down his throat in a few gulps. The others all joined in, glugging down their wine. It was refilled an instant later by one of the Maia who worked for Lórien and was in temporary control of all drinks.

Mairon wiped his mouth and bounced down from his chair. "All right, everyone, to follow the 'Yule' tradition, we're going to exchange presents! I know the gossip central passed out that news, so you should all have your presents ready. Now...everyone go get your presents from wherever you hid them!"

Everyone dashed from the Ring of Doom, chairs toppling in their excitement, though Salmar did stop to pick his up. Tilion almost fell on his head when he rolled off the armrest he was occupying, but he landed on his feet just in time. There was a gust of wind, and then everyone was gone except Mairon and Eönwë, the latter still staring after Arien. She was glowing and lighting the Ring even though she was almost out of sight.

Mairon snapped his fingers in front of Eönwë's face and the Herald's head jerked up.

"What? I didn't do it!"

Mairon rolled his eyes. "All right, Fi, you love-struck moron, where are your presents? I know you have some...I might have spied on you when you got them for other people. I still don't know what you got me, though. What did you get me?"

Eönwë grabbed someone's abandoned half-drank cup and took a sip, climbing to his feet. He pulled his wings up tightly behind him and tossed his head. "I am not telling you."

"Are you going to get it, though?"

"Yup. Right now." Eönwë vanished in a thunderous clap of wings.

Mairon yawned casually and strolled back over to the table, plopping down onto the seat he had chosen earlier. He patted his pocket to make sure Eönwë's present was still there, and satisfied, propped his feet up on the table.

Then a bird dropped a present on his boot.

Mairon shrieked and fell over backwards, scrambling to his feet as soon as he bounced off the now-broken chair. He gasped and stared down in horror at his beautifully decorated boots and the small pile of white and grey... _present_ that had been dumped onto one of them. Slowly, he lifted his head and glared at the dove that was now perched on the table in front of him.

It cooed at him, tilting its head to the side. There was a tiny flutter and an almost identical bird landed right next to it.

Mairon really, really liked his boots.

He snarled and lunged for both of the little winged animals, but they took to the air just in time, flying for a moment above his head before flapping away to land on the arm of a Maia who had just re-entered the Ring.

Mairon glared. "Give me those birds, Melian," he said threateningly.

The Maia scoffed. "As if! The birds are _precious_ to me." She looked out beneath her eyelashes and patted the two doves creepily.

"They ruined my shoes," Mairon barked. "I will EAT them. Besides, you have nightingales. Since when did you get doves?"

"Since they got interesting names," Melian said smugly. "Do you know what these two are called? _Turtle_ doves, that's what. Isn't that cool?"

"I bet they taste delicious," said Mairon.

"Someday," Melian said airily, changing the subject as she so often did. "I'm going to meet a _wonderful_ Maia...and he's going to fall in love with me right away. Then we're going to have a beautiful daughter (not as beautiful as me), who looks just like me."

"You've already met all the Maiar," Mairon said. "What if you fall in love with one of the Firstborn instead?"

Melian laughed so hard she fell over, and the turtle doves flew away. Mairon glared at them as they left.

Eönwë popped into sight and tucked his wings away. "Quick," he said. "They're coming!"

"Who?"

"The other Maiar," Eönwë said. "They all have their presents and they're very excited."

Mairon looked around. "Uh-oh," he said suddenly, remembering something.

"Uh-oh?" Eönwë repeated. "'Uh-oh' what? What does that mean? Is that something bad? _What did we forget_? _"_

"Don't stress out, I can totally solve it," Mairon said, patting his shoulder.

" _But can you really?!_ " Eönwë stressed out.

"Hey, look, it's Arien," Mairon said.

Eönwë spun, caught sight of her coming toward the Ring of Doom, and his eyes glazed over.

Mairon rubbed his hands together. "Okay, let's see..."

"What _did_ you forget?" Melian asked, somehow recovering from her hysterical laughter.

"Well, there's going to be all of us Maiar...probably at least ten presents each," Mairon said. "But where are we going to put them? Hm..." He looked around at the table full of half-eaten food and desserts, and then the massive empty space in the very center of the tables.

Melian didn't offer assistance.

"I know!" Mairon's eyes lit up. "Melian, quick, grow a tree right there in the middle of the circle. Leave a big space between the ground and the bottom branches so we can put presents there, then we can pass them out!"

"But how will we know whose present is whose?" Melian wondered.

"Stop thinking, you'll hurt your brain," Mairon said. "I'll figure that out. Just grow the tree!"

Melian waved her hand and a pathetic-looking tree with spiky leaves appeared.

Mairon gagged. "Okay, _no_ , that's not what I mean. Something...big, with – I dunno, dangly leaves with some kind of rough bark. And thick. No spaces between the leaves. That's...it's disgustingly ugly."

"Picky." Melian made a face at him and waved her hand again. Another tree appeared, this one looking like an upside-down cone, but much greener. It was massive, had bristly long leaves that looked like needles, and was –

"A cedar tree," Melian announced. "I just invented it. I love the name."

"I...don't. It should be called a cone tree," Mairon said, admiring it. Yes, it would do well. "It needs something decorative on it, though. Hm...glitter. And dangly bits of lace."

Melian sighed heavily, waved her hand once more, and the tree's slender branches were weighed down by pieces of lace, the needle leaves covered in bits of glitter. "Anything else, _majesty_?"

"Yes," said Mairon, pleased by the title. "Those little round globey things that are hooked to the bottom of the tables."

Melian _poof_ ed the globey things onto the tree.

"Perfect!" Mairon said. "It's done."

And just in time too, for Maiar started hurrying back into the Ring, arms piled high with presents.

"Place them there, thank you!" Mairon directed, gesturing them all toward the bottom of the tree. "Wait! Make sure you put the name of the present's recipient on the package."

"What?" said someone.

"Whatever," Mairon said. "We'll just take turns grabbing presents and hope for the best."

Eönwë staggered over to Mairon and almost fell on top of him, grinning madly.

"You look like an idiot, Fi," Mairon said. "What happened?"

"That mistletoe tradition you came up with," Eönwë bubbled. "I really, really like it."

Mairon glanced over at the pillar he had hung the mistletoe on, and saw Arien blushing so hard her cheeks were literally on fire.

"Right."

Ilmarë sauntered over to the two of them and slipped her arm through Mairon's. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, lifting a bit of greenery. "Look what I found," she giggled.

Mairon stared at the mistletoe and it disintegrated. "Oops," he said, shaking her off his arm. "No." Ilmarë sniffed and pranced away, likely to find more of the plant and try it on someone else.

"We should invent more celebrations," Eönwë decided, staring lovingly at Arien again. This time, she returned his gaze.

Mairon found it sickening.

"I think we should do one where everyone says they love each other and they give each other sweet presents," Eönwë said.

"I will have nothing to do with it," Mairon announced. "Now where's my present?"

Eönwë pulled a feather from his pocket and absentmindedly handed it to Mairon.

Mairon stared at it for a very long moment. "Um." He took it and examined it from all sides. "What is it?"

"It's a feather, you dunce," Eönwë said, finally tearing his gaze away from Arien's flickering flame-colored eyes. "I got it from one of the raven eagles. Or...what used to be the raven eagles. Okay, so they don't exist anymore. They attacked me, it's not my fault I had to defend myself."

"So you annihilated an entire species of bird to get me this feather?" Mairon said, astonished.

"Er...maybe. Yes."

"I love it!" Mairon declared. He stuck it in his hair. "And I will make myself a new form now, based off of this. How does...let's see, black hair, brown eyes, pale skin, and ebony wings sound? Then I can fly around with you."

Eönwë made a vague agreeing motion, back to exchanging lovingly creepy stares with Arien.

Mairon took the diamond crown off his head and plopped it on Eonwe's. "There," he said. "And I didn't even have to wrap it."

"Thank you!" Eönwë exclaimed, not looking away from Arien.

"Yup," Mairon said, and turned to stare at the mound of presents accumulating under the tree. He wondered how much of a distraction it would take for everyone not to notice him taking all of the presents and hiding them in his forge.

* * *

 **Wasn't this an epic story? XD I really don't think the Ainur would celebrate any Christmas/Yule things, but they made it a party. Christmas is a tradition based off the Yule celebration from the Greeks, otherwise known as the celebration of the winter solstice. It's rather confusing and I don't know much about it, but I'm quite sure Tolkien's characters would invent some traditions/celebrations of their own.**

 **This is only the 2** **nd** **story in the entire Christmas Countdown, though! Tomorrow there's going to be another story for the 3** **rd** **day, posted by** **ThurinRanger** **. Make sure you check it out in the** **Frozen** **movie fandom – it's going to be titled** _ **All I Want for Christmas Is You**_ _ **.**_ **Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the stories in the Christmas Countdown!**

 **( _Psst! Have you heard the song_ The Twelve Days of Christmas _? Do you remember what the gifts for each day were in the song? Be on the lookout for a mention of them in every story – mine's the 2_ _nd_ _day, so I have turtle doves mentioned in this story. Did you see them?)_**


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